Fern Michaels - Heartbreak Ranch

“Walker Heart!” She brandished his name like a weapon and slipped around in front of him, splaying her hands flat against his chest to prevent him from taking another step. “You’re going to do as I say or else!” she threatened, her voice throbbing with anger and frustration. Too late she remembered her

mother’s cautionary note.

Never lose your temper. Yelling and stamping around in anger will only make things worse, and he’ll be reluctant to respond to your training.

“I—I’m sorry,” she offered, hoping to undo any damage she might have caused. When she realized she was speaking to his chest, she tilted her head back and looked up. His expression was tight with strain. “I really must insist that you let me help you. One wrong move and you could hurt yourself even more.”

Believing that she had appealed to his common sense, Amy tried again and this time found him slightly more cooperative. Still, getting Walker into bed was no easy task. He was not a small man and pain made him inflexible.

Muttering an oath, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Turning, lifting, pushing and pulling, Amy managed to lay him down.

“There now. That should do it,” she said, adjusting the pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t lie here like this,” he complained. “I feel like a corpse. I need pillows to prop me up.”

She shook her head. “What you need is to lie flat.”

“You a doc?” he snapped.

“No, but I often helped my mother take care of her girls. They were always straining their backs and—” She broke off, the reality of what she’d said hitting her like a slap on the face. She glanced down at Walker and was relieved to see that he wasn’t paying her any attention. He was too busy trying to get himself comfortable.

Admonishing herself for always saying the first thing that came into her head, Amy moved to the end of the bed, grabbed his left boot and started to tug.

“Hey!” he shouted. He shook his foot loose of her hand. “The boots stay on.”

Remember who is in charge. Be confident in your authority.

“Not in my bed they don’t,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument. Before he could respond, she grabbed his boots by the heels and tugged them off. “I’ll just leave them by the door.”

“Thanks,” he replied to her back as she set the boots on the floor.

A moment later she was back, pulling off his socks. She tossed them on the floor next to his boots. Coming around to the side of the bed, she leaned forward and started toward his belt buckle.

He grabbed her hands in midmotion. “If you want to take my pants off it’s fine with me. But I think I should warn you that I’m not wearin’ anything underneath.”

Amy snatched her hands away. What on earth had she been thinking? Obviously, she’d gotten carried away with her nursing duties. His smug expression mocked her, but she refused to let him see her mortification.

“Thank you for the warning. It didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t be wearing any— I mean— I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

“I’m as comfortable as I’m gonna get, considerin’.” He gave her a disgruntled look, then turned his face toward the wall.

“Good. That’s...good.”

Without another word, Amy fled the room and closed the door behind her.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.